


Learning to Let Go

by TheStilinskiLips



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Jackson, Caring Derek Hale, Caring Jackson Whittemore, Chubby Kink, Chubby Stiles, Emotional Derek Hale, Emotional Jackson Whittemore, Jealous Derek Hale, Jealous Jackson Whittemore, M/M, Marijuana, Marijuana Use, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Stoner Stiles Stilinski, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStilinskiLips/pseuds/TheStilinskiLips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past year has been hard, what with Allison’s untimely death; Stiles can't help but feel responsible for the passing of his best friend’s girlfriend. He has taken to eating his emotions away, and became quick friends with the server at Beacon Hills’ local ice cream parlor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Change

It was a crisp autumn morning, and the sun had just reached its peak in the sky. Stiles groaned as his alarm clock began beeping, and smacked it into silence with a quick flick of his hand. 

“Stiles, I’ve gotta go into work today, got a call about a double homicide.” Sheriff Stilinski walked in to Stiles’ room, buckling his belt.

“D’ya ever hear of knockin’?” The still half-asleep boy yelled into his pillow.

Not hearing a reply from his father, Stiles managed to bring himself to talk again, sighing.

“S’all good dad, dun worry about a thing.” A sleepy Stiles replied, wiping away the morning gloss in his eyes.

“I know I said I was staying home and spending time with you today, but I can’t ignore this, the deputies need me to-“

“Dad, s’all good, I promise. If I was s’mad I’d tell ya.” Groaning, Stiles flipped to face the opposite side of the room, but scrunched his face up after the sunlight burned through his eyelids, and flipped back to face his dad.

The Sheriff let up a gentle smile, patted his son’s leg, and walked out the door.

Eyes still closed, Stiles sat up and swung his legs out onto the side of his bed, his body jiggling unfamiliarly as he did so; a side effect of befriending the ice cream server no doubt.

Clad only in a slightly-too-small pair of boxer briefs and a tight, white t-shirt, Stiles made his way downstairs to grab a bowl of his favorite cereal, Lucky Charms, getting a call on his phone along the way.

“Hey man, Lydia is having a party tonight; she wanted me to tell you. You down?” It was Scott, enthusiastic as ever.

Stiles let out a burp, breathing out heavily; milk dribbling down his chin. “Yeah man, I’ll be there around 8. See you then.” 

The toast popped out of the toaster as Stiles wiped away the line of milk trailing down his chin.

The day dragged by slowly, time only seemed to progress when Stiles was searching up porn on his computer, and when he did, it passed too quickly.

After an hour of surfing the web, he decided he was hungry and that he might as well hit up the ice cream parlor again, for the third day in a row.

“Ah yeah, one large Oreo Flurry please.” He handed the money to the girl before she could reply; he knew the exact price.

“Nah, this one’s on the house, Stiles. You come in here way too often for me to let you pay. Keep the money.”

“Thanks Jess.” He took his ice cream, smiling weakly, and wandered over to his usual spot.

As Stiles was inhaling his way through his flurry, thinking about his life, and how it is that he came to be where he is today, it had come to his attention that he possibly felt even worse about Allison’s death than Scott, her own boyfriend. Realizing this provoked a short Oreo-induced choking session and an inevitable promise to himself that he would try to return to his normal, spazzy self. Stiles wiped the tears out of his eyes, still coughing slightly, clearing his irritated throat. It had been a long time since the Nogitsune had been captured for good, so he figured it was about time he began to feel better about his life. That is until he thought about Derek Hale. _That damned Derek Hale, with his perfect glistening eyes and chiseled cheek-bones, not to mention his flawless, powerful, burly body. ___

Stiles shook off the thought. He wasn’t about to get obsessed with a guy who would never like him back. Besides, no one besides Scott even knows that he’s gay, so he figured it wasn’t worth the effort. Even with all that said and done, Stiles couldn’t help but to continue thinking about the alpha. He noticed that Derek had recently been letting off of his straight-forward, serious attitude, probably seeing that it was what everyone needed most at the time. But if Stiles were to really speak his mind, it was everything but what everyone needed, as there were numerous times where Scott had been able to smell the arousal spark in Stiles as he would lay his eyes on the newly-friendly, masculine werewolf, resulting in a “Go get ‘em, tiger!” from a sly-grinning Scott.

Derek took advantage of the quiet months after Allison’s death and remodeled his old, burned down house. It was now as good as new, and the perfect place to “smoke weed without getting caught”, according to Erica. The whole pack had taken a liking to smoking every now and then. Basically whenever there was a party, there was weed involved, thanks to Erica and Scott, who seemed to have a never-ending supply. Stiles was looking forward to spending time at Lydia’s tonight, mainly to get his mind off of Derek, who seemed to always be lurking in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts. And since Derek never usually showed up to parties at places other than his own house, Stiles was in the clear tonight.  
Not soon enough, 7:45 rolled around and Stiles was getting ready for the bonfire. All of his clothes seemed to be a little tighter than usual, especially around his butt and stomach. He shrugged it off and slapped on a pair of too-tight skinny jeans and a poofy hoodie to hide any newly-formed chub from his friends.

Stiles was the first to arrive to the party, discovering upon arrival that it didn’t start until 9. To pass the time, he decided to chug a beer or two, which would have been alright at anyone else’s house, but not at Lydia’s.

“Sweety, I understand that you love your alcohol, but I can’t afford to have any stains on the furniture. Please go out back on the deck.” Lydia yelled as she set up a table of food outside.

“Lydiaaaaa, I’m just tryin’ to have a good time.”

Lydia sighed as the doorbell rang. She walked passed Stiles, scruffing up his hair as she walked to the door, smiling.

It was Erica and Boyd, together as always. Stiles grinned and spread his arms wide as he saw Erica look past Lydia and light up with glee. Stiles was Erica’s favorite person to smoke with, or so she said. She bolted over to Stiles, hugged him briefly, and pulled out a bag of the “good stuff” as she liked to call it. Boyd shook his head and laughed from behind as he walked to the porch outside, patting Erica’s shoulder as he did so.

Scott and Kira arrived next, followed by Isaac, Malia, and Jackson (which was surprising to Stiles). Lydia directed all of them out back where the food was, and turned up some music loudly.  
Everyone took to standing in a circle around the table of delicious pies and steaks and hot dogs and ribs; talking and laughing. Stiles drooled just thinking about how hungry the food made him. His legs began feeling a little too tired and sore for his liking, so he plopped himself down onto a chair, not hesitating to dig in to the delicious food that was lying out in front of him while everyone else happily continued conversing and drinking. He was happy; no one seemed to notice, or at least say anything about his sudden weight gain, and he was glad.

Time passed, and eventually Scott and Isaac started a bonfire in the backyard, causing everyone to swarm to the heat, like bugs to a light. Once again, as everyone stood around the fire, socializing, Stiles took to sitting on the ground, smiling and enjoying the smooth, calming heat emanating from the fire, warming his face. The night could not have been better. Stiles was surrounded by his closest friends; the people who meant the world to him, and nothing in the world could break through the barrier of protection that seemed to grow over the group of smiling teens. Stiles looked up into the sky, a soft breeze chilling his lips. He wondered how everything in his life lead to this exact moment, how every near-death experience, and the many, many times where staying alive had seemed impossible. He wondered how he managed to find the strength within himself to fight through every trial he and his friends were put through, and come out alive. He shuddered at the thought of how chaotic his life was, and for a second, just a second, wondered how life would be had Scott not been bit. As he was lost in his thoughts, Erica suddenly appeared next to him and handed him a bowl, grinning. 

“Already?” Stiles teased as he took a whiff of the pungent smoke, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly through his nose. Almost instantly time seemed to slow down around him, making him feel like had had no reason to care about anything in the world. His throat was burning, but it felt amazing, so surreal and calm. Stiles never needed the sweet smoke more; it tied everything in this perfect night together. “The perfect combination.” He thought.

Erica laughed and nodded, approving his somehow apparent thought of taking another whiff. This time he opened his mouth and let the smoke slowly drift out into the open air, where Erica playfully inhaled and snapped her jaw shut over it, giggling and licking her lips. Stiles passed the bowl to Erica, who continued passing it around the fire, counter-clockwise. Stiles and Erica began to laugh uncontrollably as they discussed what it would be like if Stiles were to take the bite.

“That would forsure be fun, Er. But s’like my love life, it would crash and burn, s’not a good idea. ‘Course maybe s’what I need ta get myself laid.” Stiles yelled, tears streaming down his face as he laughed.  
Erica broke down into hysterics, smacking the ground with her hands, trying to catch a breath.

“Stiles, honey! Tone it down, I have neighbors you know.” Lydia sighed impatiently, coughing as she took another whiff of the bowl.

“Nah don’t listen to her, Stiles.” Erica laughed as she patted Stiles’ back a little too hard.

Suddenly, a hand reached down next to him and gave him a beer. Oblivious to whom the hand belonged to, Stiles muttered a weak “Thank ya very much”, before swinging his arm back around, bringing the beer to his face, and beginning to chug. It wasn’t until everyone around the bonfire became silent and was looking behind Stiles that he knew something was up. He didn’t want to turn around; he knew what he was going to see. As impossible as it sounded, he knew who was going to be standing there, looking down at him. But he turned around anyway, and instantly regretted it.

_There, towering above the Stiles, was Derek Hale, alpha werewolf, also known as the hottest man alive._

Derek let out a surprisingly gentle “Hey Stiles”, before sitting down next to him. Stiles didn’t know what to say or do, and he instantly turned red, choking out a “H-hey Derek…”  
He looked to Scott across the bonfire for help, but he replied with a strange grin and stood up, wandering off into the woods with Kira.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The word seemed to repeat itself over and over again in Stiles’ head. Everyone slowly went back to their loud, high selves, and seemed to forget about the presence of Derek.

“I-I’m surprised to see you here.” Stiles stuttered out, sweating a little bit.

“Yeah, well. I figured I should try to be a little more social. Staying cooped up in my house all the time isn’t as fun as it seems.” Derek replied softly, almost sadly, taking a sip of his own concoction of wolfsbane and beer.

“I like it… S’nice to see you somewhere other than your own place.” Stiles looked down, clenching his fists tightly into the grass.

“Oh. Thanks, Stiles. I appreciate it. I was kind of worried coming here…”

“Why? I mean, everyone here looks up to you. No one here is going to make fun of you or think it’s funny that you showed up. If anything, they’re glad that you did.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Like, they’d be afraid you’d claw their throats out.” Stiles grinned, but silently gasped as Derek’s arm reached over his shoulders and pulled him in for a quick hug.

“Thank you.” Derek replied, looking down to the ground, grinning, chuckling quietly.

The fire started to hiss, indicating that it was about to rain. Everyone retreated inside Lydia’s, and sat in a half-circle on the living room floor.

Derek had sat down next to Stiles again, and kept brushing against his arm, resulting always in a wave of embarrassment from Stiles. The group had taken to watching a Harry Potter movie, which one though, Stiles wasn’t sure, as he was floating too far through space to really realize what was happening in front of him.

Stiles must have passed out at one point, because suddenly he jolted up, looking around the room. Isaac and Scott were passed out, leaving Kira and Lydia to talk quietly, snuggled in a blanket together. Erica and Boyd were nowhere to be seen, as per usual. Stiles moved his head towards the right more and discovered Jackson was staring right at him. The jock quickly bolted his head back to the TV, causing Stiles to shake his head slightly and lean back into the base of the couch. He could hear the swig of beer next to him, so he knew that Derek was awake as well. 

The silence had gone on too long for Stiles liking, so he decided to point out a flaw in the movie to spark conversation.

“Shut the hell up, Stilinski, I’m trying to watch this, y’know.” A crude as always Jackson yelled from across the room.  
Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed; he should have expected as much.

“I’m done with this, Jackson.” Derek suddenly stood up. “What good have you gotten from constantly harassing Stiles? I know you two don’t have much in common, but without him, you wouldn’t even be alive today. If anything, you should be praising him like a fucking god. You’re part of my pack now, and I expect you to treat my friends the way they have always treated you, or I can just as easily claw your throat out if you’d prefer that.”

Stiles froze, his blood turned cold. He turned to his right and saw Derek, glaring across the room at Jackson. Lydia and Kira stopped their chattering, and looked at Jackson, then Stiles, and then back to Jackson.  
“Oh plea-“

Derek growled loudly, turning partially into his wolf form. “You think I’m kidding?”

Jackson looked shocked, but he didn't back down. He called out another insult, standing up and walking over towards Stiles.

“All you’ve ever done is cause problems for the pack, Stilinski. Remember how you went off and got yourself possessed by a Nogitsune and nearly killed us all?”

Stiles opened his mouth, but no words came out. His body had stopped working. His heart skipped a dozen beats and he began feeling light-headed. This was exactly what he didn’t need. The past few months of trying to progress past Allison’s death weren't easy, but he was finally starting to feel at least a little better about everything. Not anymore.

“Jackson!” Lydia called out.

“Jackson…” Stiles began to tear up.

“Oh what? You’re going to cry now? We all have problems, Stilinski. The world can’t just cater to you.” Jackson walked closer still.

“J-Jackson, please-“Stiles cried out.

“But oh wait, I’m in the wrong here, because your fucking nut-job of a mom died, we have to treat to like a goddamn porcelain doll. Can’t lay a single finger on you-“  
Derek tackled Jackson, clawing at his throat, growling fiercely. Jackson managed to slide out of Derek’s grasp, grabbing him by the waist and throwing him across the room, smashing a table in half in the process.

“Jackson, Derek, stop!” Lydia screamed, running over to divide the two howling werewolves.

Jackson pushed Lydia back, causing her to hurdle back into the wall, falling to the ground unconscious. “Lydia!” Kira ran over to the banshee, looking back at the now-awake Scott and Isaac.  
Both the alpha and the beta had already turned into their werewolf forms, and jumped into the fight. Isaac clawed at Derek, while Scott took for Jackson’s legs, swiping at them, biting into the flesh deeply.  
Jackson howled and kicked back Scott, who flew back into Derek, Isaac jumping out of the way just in time, causing the both of them to smash out through a window, rolling onto the back deck.  
Isaac had Jackson pinned to the wall, and began to snap his jaw at the jock-werewolves throat. “Guys, please. Stop this right now!” Kira yelled, running angrily into the two, sword held out in front of her.  
Jackson pushed Isaac off of him, causing Isaac to spin back and slam his head onto the TV, shattering it in the process, resulting in Isaac falling down to the ground.

The sound of piercing steel filled the suddenly now-silent room.

Scott and Derek slowly stood up, wiping the glass off of their shirts, walking up behind Stiles, who was now balling his eyes out at the horrific scene in front of him.  
Isaac was on the ground, unconscious, while Kira stood in front of Jackson, hands in front of her mouth as her sword stayed in the air, held up by the flesh it was now stabbing into.

“J…..Jackson….” Kira stepped back, tears filling her eyes.

Stiles backed up slowly, and ran out of the house, tears streaming down his face.

“Stiles!” Derek turned around to see where the boy had run off to, but he couldn’t see past the lights on the porch.

“Kira, c-calm down. It’s just a sword, it can’t kill a werewolf.” Scott walked up to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“N-no… It’s not just a regular sword, Scott. Don’t you remember? Deaton had just laced it with wolfsbane in case of any werewolf emergencies.”

Erica and Boyd had suddenly appeared from the porch door, jaws dropping open at the horrific scene.

“What happened?” Erica ran up to Jackson. “I…I can’t hear his heart! What the fuck happened?”

Kira backed up even further. Erica ran up to her, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, turning into her werewolf form. “What the fuck did you do to him?!”

Kira looked to Scott for help, who tackled Erica to the ground. Boyd leapt at Scott, but Derek jumped in front of him, grabbing him and pinning against the wall.

“L-look. He died before, and came back…When he became a werewolf from…a kanima. He can still come back. R-right, Kira?” Scott panted, letting go of Erika.

“I….No…This is different than just the stab of a regular sword.”

Erica cried out, running up to Jackson, holding up his face. “Jackson!” Blood leaked out of his mouth, his eyes closed.

It seemed like time had stopped as Erica stood there, holding on to Jackson’s face, crying his name out repeatedly when she suddenly heard a faint whisper in her ear, causing her to jerk back instantly and look at the once-thought-to-be-dead Jackson.

“Eri….ca…” The boy coughed up blood, his faded eyes staring up helplessly at Erica.

“Jackson! You’re alive!” She hugged him tightly, causing him to cough more.

“Jackson! Thank god!” Kira walked up behind Erica.

“Kira, we need to take your car right now and get him to Deaton.” Scott yelled.

“Ok, but we have to remove the-“

“No!” Jackson yelled, obviously in pain. But it was too late; Erica had already taken it upon her own hands to pull the sword steadily out of Jackson’s chest.

“It must have just missed his heart!” 

Derek didn’t stick around. As soon as he knew Jackson was still breathing, he ran out the door after Stiles, running into the dark woods behind Lydia’s house.

“Stiles?” There was no reply. “Stiles, please. I need to know you’re okay.”

“G-go away, Derek.” Stiles appeared behind him.

“Stiles-“

“Just... Just go. I don’t want to get you killed too, alright? I’ve already screwed up my friends’ lives enough, I can’t afford to allow myself to keep in contact with you guys, and risk getting you all killed as well.”-

“Stiles, it isn’t like that-“

“Yes it is, Derek! Two of our closest friends are dead because of me. Two innocent people are now dead; not living anymore, Derek. How the hell am I supposed to live with myself?”

Derek didn’t reply, but instead, stared silently at Stiles.

“Exactly. What the hell do I do?”

“Nothing, Stiles. You don’t have to do anything. Jackson isn-“

“How the fuck can you say that, Derek? If I hadn’t made that stupid comment about the movie, Jackson wouldn’t be dead, and you wouldn’t have had to risk your life for me. That sword could have just as easily gone through you, Derek. And I don’t know what I would have done had that happened.

“W-what?” Derek looked dumbfounded, shocked.

Stiles instantly flushed red in the darkness. And he was sure Derek would have known something was up then if he could see his face, if he didn’t already. “Nothing…Just forget about it.”

“Stiles… Jackson isn’t dead. The sword just barely missed his heart. He must have just passed out from all the pain.”

“He’s not…dead?” Stiles stumbled backwards, tripping and falling, spinning around and catching himself on his hands and knees. He slammed his fists into the ground, and began to cry again.

“Dammit! I’m so fucking pitiful!” Stiles yelled and dug his hands into the ground.

“Stiles, stop! Why would you say that?!”

“Look at me, Derek. I’m balling my eyes out over something that happened over a year ago.”

“Huh?”

“Allison. Dammit Derek. Allison!”

“Stiles, that wasn’t your fault either. You didn’t choose to be possessed by the Nogitsune. You couldn’t help what happened! Stop blaming yourself for that! None of us think it’s your fault.”  
Stiles wrapped his arms around his legs, crying into his knees. Derek walked over, and sat down next to Stiles, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

“I think I’m having a panic attack. Derek? I can’t see anything. Please, help me just help-“

“Stiles, calm down, okay? Just listen to my voice. You’re alright now. Everything is going to be okay. Jackson will heal himself within a day or two, and everything will go back to normal.”

“No…Not that I know how everyone really feels about me.”

“What? You actually believe anything that comes out of that shithead Jackson’s mouth? Stiles, I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but none of us take Jackson seriously. He’s always the one who causes problems for us, not you. All of those things he said, they were out of jealousy. I could smell it thick in the air. It was reeking off of his body.

“Jealousy? But why would Jackson be jealous of me?”

“Because of what happened to his parents, Stiles. He feels like he has no one to love him, and he sees how much we all love you. He sees how much you mean to us, and he realizes that it’s his own fault that he feels the way he does.”

“Derek…”

“It’s true Stiles. You’re the glue that holds us all together. Without you, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”

Stiles sighed and smiled, grabbing a small handful of dirt in his fingers, and watching it slide back into the Earth as he tilted his hands back and forth. “Thanks, Der.”

Wind blew through the trees in the silent forest, causing Stiles to shiver.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to your place. You’ve had a rough night.”

“No kidding.”


	2. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek invites Stiles over and a heart-felt conversation ensues.

Derek drove Stiles home, not talking at all the whole ride.

“Well, here we are.” Derek smiled as he put the car in park.  


Stiles just looked out the window, staring at his house. A light was on in the kitchen, meaning his dad must still be awake, but given the hour, he was probably drinking.  


“Stiles? Are you okay?”  


“Y-yeah…Hey, Derek, thank you.”  


“Stiles, you don’t have to thank-“Derek gasped lightly, Stiles had leaned over and hugged Derek. Though awkward, it felt nice. Derek calmed down instantly, knowing that Stiles was okay. He breathed in Stiles’ scent and hugged him back, wishing it would never end.  


What. No. What was he talking about? Stiles is just his friend. That’s it, nothing more. But Derek couldn’t stop smiling. It isn’t that he didn’t _want _to see Stiles as something more than a friend; rather, he didn’t want to set himself up for failure.__  


Stiles finally let go, smiling gently, and walked out of the car, up the stairs, to the front door of his house.  


Derek watched as the boy fumbled around his pockets for his keys, then dropped them on the porch, ruining the otherwise peaceful, melancholy-but-happy moment. He turned around after picking up his keys; smiling sheepishly, and waved. Derek waved and slowly drove away, sighing.  


A few days passed and Derek hadn’t heard from Stiles. Not that it was anything different than usual; they hardly texted. It was just that he couldn’t get rid of this feeling of hope that Stiles would send him a ‘hey’ or something of the sort. Whenever he’d get a text, he’d unlock his phone quickly, hoping to see the spazz’s name appear on the screen, but was always let down when he discovered it was just a member of the pack, checking in, asking if anything was up.  


He had just unlocked his phone to read a text, his hopes rising.  


“Hey Derek, Erica and Boyd are fighting. Just a heads up if one of them shows up at your place.” It was Scott.  


“Thanks? I don’t care what goes on between them.” Derek replied, clenching his teeth slightly.  


“What’s up with you? I thought you had a recent change-of-heart.”  


“Nothing, just leave me alone.”  


“Well alright.”  


Derek growled and threw his phone onto the couch. Why did Scott care what was wrong? It’s not like he ever did before.  


Derek sighed and lied down on the couch, sinking slightly into the cushions.  


He just wanted Stiles to text him, was that so much to ask for? He just wanted to talk to the boy, to know that he was still okay. Derek had a strange feeling that something was still wrong. He could smell it when Stiles hugged him the other night. Something was off, and Derek _had _to find out.__  


It suddenly occurred to him that he could easily text Stiles first, but as quickly as it sounded like a good plan, Derek’s heart skipped a beat and he sighed again. He lied there in silence for a few minutes, heart racing for some strange reason, and suddenly unlocked his phone and texted a ‘hey stiles’ to the boy. It was like he had no control over his actions whatsoever. He instantly dropped his phone and put his hands to his face, covering his mouth.  


“Fuck, fuck, fuck what did I just do? Derek stood up and began pacing circles around the coffee table. He was about to take his phone and shatter it to pieces when he saw “New Text Message” appear on the screen. He unlocked it and his face lit up; heart suddenly slowing down. It was Stiles. The boy replied no later than 30 seconds after Derek had sent the first text.  


“Hey?” Derek read the text, and then allowed his gaze to veer to the right, staring intensely at the floor. He realized that Stiles was probably wondering why he would ever text him. They never texted unless it was for some sort of emergency, and even then it was a: “stiles get here now or someone is going to die” Not a simple “hello”.  


“What’s up??” Derek bit his lip hard as he hit send.  


“Nothin’ really. You need something?”  


Derek debated on simply asking him to hang out, but he decided he couldn’t just say that alone. No no no, that was too simple and obvious. He had to make it look like he didn’t care, like he was just bored. He couldn’t let Stiles know his true feelings.  


True feelings? When the fuck did he have hidden feelings for Stiles? He suddenly remembered the night in the woods, and how calm Stiles became when Derek had put his arm around his shoulders. He smiled slightly, typing a reply to send.  


“No, just feeling bored. Erica and Boyd are fighting, and I don’t know where Isaac is. You wanna hang?”  


Derek gasped to himself as he hit send; this could make or break everything. He shook his head violently back and forth. Why was he getting so excited over this? _It was just Stiles; that skinny, goofy, boy who could never keep still; always tapping his fingers on something, licking his lips; those luscious, succulent, perfect lips that tied together his impeccable, chiseled face. _Derek felt himself growing hard in his jeans. Since when did he have such strong feelings for Stiles? He didn’t care anymore. All he knew was that the spazz was constantly on his mind, and that he had recently fantasized about interloping with boy numerous times whilst in the shower.__  


A few minutes passed by and Stiles still hadn’t replied. Derek was getting anxious. Maybe he had said something wrong? Maybe what he said was too blunt? Or maybe Stiles just didn’t think of him as a friend. He was about to send an apology text when Stiles replied.  


“Sure. Be there around 6.”  


Derek’s heart leapt out of his chest, he couldn’t help but smile and let out a loud “Yes!” to himself that bounced off the walls of his apartment.  


It was 4:15; Derek didn’t have much time to get ready. He booked it to his dresser, looking for the fanciest clothes he could find; throwing all of his skinny jeans and t-shirts behind him, causing them to pile up on his bed. He had to look his best; there was simply no other option.  


“No…No…Definitely not this…Too baggy… _Way too tight… _”__  


But then again, maybe tight was good. Maybe tight would be better, given the circumstances of who was visiting.  


_Yes, tight is better, definitely better. ___  


He ended up grabbing the fanciest pair of skinny jeans he could, and the tightest t-shirt he had.  


He booked it to the shower; had to be quick if he wanted to look good when Stiles got there; or, at the very least, presentable.  


He didn’t even bother waiting for the water to warm up. He didn’t have the time. Warm water or not, Derek was going to see Stiles soon. He had to give himself as much time as he could too look hot and sexy.  


Derek looked at himself in the foggy mirror as he dried himself off. “Sexy…” Suddenly he felt afraid, _very afraid _. This wasn’t even a date, should he be dressing up this much when he was just “hanging out” with Stiles?__  


Certainly he wouldn’t mind, would he? Derek slipped on the pants, applying deodorant and cologne to his body. ‘Wolf’s Bite’ was the name of the strong-scented cologne, ironically.  
Derek was combing his hair when he suddenly heard a knock on the door, and the sound of Stiles’ voice.  


“Derek? You here? It’s Stiles!”  


He dropped his comb. He wasn’t ready yet. Oh well. No wait, this was bad. Was it? Yes. Yes it was; very bad. Derek ran out of the bathroom, running to open the front door, pulling down his shirt at the same time.  


“Hey Stiles-“  


Derek’s voice stopped working as he eyed the boy up and down.  


Sweats, an old, ripped up t-shirt, and a big, puffy sweatshirt enveloped the boy in a presumably warm bundle of heat. And here was Derek, fresh out of the shower, looking better than he thought he ever has, all fancied up, and slightly shivering from the cold water on his skin.  


“Hey Derek, sorry if I got here a little early. I went through drive-thru and ate faster than I thought I would; figured you wouldn’t mind if I arrived a little early.” The boy had a sly, yet embarrassed look on his face; the tips of ears turning a light shade of red.  


“N-no, it’s no problem at all. C’mon on in. Sorry if I look awful; I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago.”  


“Nah man, dun worry about it. At least you showered. I find it rare that I even do that anymore…”  


Derek heard Stiles’ heart skip a beat, but then return to normal as he walked by to set a large bag on the floor and take off his sweatshirt, flashing a quick glance at him in the process.  


“Do you mind if I spend the night? My dad is gonna be out all night working, and Scott’ll probably be with Kira. I don’t want to be home alone again, for like, the 70th time this summer.”  


“Yeah- I mean no, you can-I don’t mind.” Derek turned around, hiding his face, biting the insides of his cheeks as his faced reddened, walking into the kitchen. “You want anything?”  


“Whaddya got?”  


“Um, hot pockets, leftover spaghetti, I can make some macaroni-“  


“Ooh! That sounds good.” Stiles licked his lips and plopped himself down on the couch.  


A few minutes passed by, and Derek talked to Stiles about the pack, Erica and Boyd; the usual issues. Finally Derek finished preparing the macaroni and walked over to Stiles, setting a large bowl down on the table in front of him.  


“Sorry it’s a lot, I accidentally got a large pack. Just eat what you want.”  


“Thanks, Der.”  


A chill swept through Derek’s body. He suddenly remembered the night back in the forest again. Stiles had called him Der that night as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it; actually, he did like it. _Like a lot. _But he couldn’t help but wonder when Stiles began to feel so comfortable around Derek to where he casually called him by a nickname, and didn’t wince in fear of being punched.__  


Stiles immediately dug into the macaroni. Mumbling inaudible sentences as he inhaled his way through the cheesy noodles, picking up a few of the fallen ones and shoving them back into his mouth. Obviously the boy loved his food.  


“Geez, you’re really hungry. Didn’t you say you ate before you got here?”  


Stiles blushed, scratching the back of his head as he swallowed a mouthful of noodles. “Yeah, well no. It wasn’t much of a meal; just two large cheeseburgers and a fry, which is not anywhere near enough to satisfy my stomach.” His hand rubbed a quick circle around his midsection and patted it a few times before going back to the fork to scoop up more macaroni.  


Derek hadn’t realized it before, but Stiles had put on a little weight during the past few months. It wasn’t a lot, and it certainly didn’t make him look fat, or even chubby for that matter. It was just enough to be noticeable if you really looked. It mainly accumulated around his stomach, and a slight bit on his butt. He looked a lot better than he did before. He wasn’t a total skinny frail kid anymore; he at least had a bit of meat on his bones. Derek found himself licking his lips as he continued to stare at Stiles’ stomach as it grew slightly bigger and smaller as he breathed in and out. What the hell? Liking Stiles was one thing, but being strangely attracted to his stomach was another thing; one weird, fucked up thing.  


“Derek?”  


Derek snapped back to reality, nervously glancing at Stiles, and then quickly back down to his stomach once more. “That seems like a lot, though…I don’t think even I could eat that, and I’ve got those werewolf powers.”  


Stiles felt his heartbeat quicken, which meant Derek probably did too. “Well I may have put on a few pounds as of late; nothing too noticeable, just a little bit thicker.” Stiles looked down at his stomach, then back up, shoving another mouthful of noodles into his mouth; hiding any shame he may have been showing on his face between mountains of noodles piled on his fork.  


Did Stiles’ heartbeat just quicken? And was that arousal Derek could smell in the air? No, certainly not. He’s probably just getting a whiff of it from outside, since the windows were open. It had happened once before, and mentioning it wasn’t exactly the best idea he had ever had, so he decided to keep his mouth shut this time around.  


“It looks good on you. I mean-you don’t look completely helpless anymore.” Derek smiled and patted Stiles’ back, chuckling.  


“So ya didn’t get a new sense a humor with your new change-of-heart?” Stiles grinned and patted Derek’s leg, causing them both to laugh.  


“Hey Stiles, I just want to say that-I’m sorry for how I used to be.”  


“Hm?”  


“I mean, towards you and the rest of the pack. But especially you.”  


“What do you mean?” Stiles put down the now-empty bowl of macaroni on the table and leaned back into the arm of the couch, looking at Derek.  


“How I treated you…Like I didn’t care whether you were alive or not. At the time, I meant it was a way to make you all stronger, but I realize now that it didn’t work. I never meant what I said.”  


Stiles opened his mouth slightly, staring at Derek, but didn’t say anything.  


“I’m sorry…” Derek looked down, and then glanced up at Stiles.  


“Derek, don’t worry about it. We’re all still alive, aren’t we? How you used to be did work, just not without its challenges.”  


“Challenges?”  


“Well, like us doubting our abilities, doubting our capability of surviving sometimes…There were a few times where I had to drive over to Scott’s and help him realize that he wasn’t worthless; that he had a purpose.  


“Oh my god… Stiles, I-“  


“It’s alright, really! You’ve done more than make up for it now, what with your sudden caring for all of us, revealing the true you.”  


“Are you sure?”  


Derek fiddled with his fingers in his lap, holding back a waterfall of tears behind his eyes.  


“ _Positive. _” Stiles put a hand over Derek’s. “I wouldn’t be here tonight if your change-of-heart didn’t make up for anything.”__  


Derek looked up; tears building up in his eyes.  


“Stiles…”  


Stiles moved closer to Derek and wrapped his arms around him, feeling the werewolf’s hands grab handfuls of his shirt.  


Derek sobbed into his neck, creating several streams of tears down onto his shoulder.  


“Sh, Der. Don’t cry, ok? Don’t. That will only make you feel worse. No crying.”  


Derek breathed in loudly, breathe shaking.  


“Derek, look at me. Look at my eyes.”  


The werewolf slowly removed his head from Stiles neck, pulling himself up by using Stile’s other shoulder for balance.  


“You’re okay now, Der. None of us hate you, and we never did. We always knew you had a reason for what you did. After everything you’ve been through, there was no way we could be mad at you.”  


Stiles wiped the tears off of Derek’s face with his thumbs.  


“Okay?”  


Derek nodded in response, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes with his hands.  


“Thank you, Stiles. Thank you.”  


The boy smiled, and looked down to his bag to the right. “Now look, I’ve got a bag full of movies right here, and I expect you to watch every single one with me, and be happy, okay?”  


“Okay.” Derek smiled, looking at the boy’s huge, adorable grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to take it slow this time around. Chapter 1 felt rushed to me. Again, feedback is greatly appreciated.


	3. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles asks Derek to smoke with him. They get up to some crazy shenanigans.

The night flew by, mainly consisting of Stiles narrating every movie they watched, which resulted in Derek smiling all night.

They watched the first Harry Potter, one of Stiles’ favorite movies, and then they moved onto some of the old classic Star Wars movies, which Stiles obviously loved the most because he quoted every single line.

Derek didn’t really watch any of the movies; rather, he focused on Stiles’ commentary, and his lips; mainly his lips, which never seemed to stop moving.

He had zoned out again, staring blankly at Stiles until he snapped back to reality when Stiles said his name.

“Der? You okay? We can go to sleep if you want.”

“Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine; just daydreaming.”

“Ooh, so Star Wars isn’t good enough for ya, huh? I see how it is.” Stiles smiled, biting his tongue between his front teeth as he did so, making Derek’s heart skip a beat.

“Eh, I’m more of a twilight kinda guy.” 

They both laughed, and Stiles seemed to subtly scoot closer to Derek, suddenly looking very serious.

“Hey-um… I know this probably sounds really strange and uh, like, kinda rude but do you wanna smoke with me? I mean- you don’t have to I don’t want to pressure you into it ‘cause I’m not about that life but I got some from Scott the other day and-“ The boy kept rambling on, fingers fidgeting around his legs, bouncing slightly in reciprocation from his shaking feet.

Derek never wanted to kiss the boy more. He was too much to handle right now. Maybe it was because Derek hadn’t pleasured himself in a few days, or maybe because of the full moon tomorrow, but all he wanted was Stiles. The dork was so adorable when he got nervous, the way he tried to play it off so smoothly, like he wasn’t actually screaming from embarrassment on the inside as he was explaining to Derek what he  
meant to say. His face was flushed a dark shade of red, his eyes were scattering all across the room, looking at anything but Derek.

“Like I said you don’t have to but most the pack does at parties and I would love to with you but you don’t have to-“

“Sure, Stiles; I’d love to.”

The boy stopped his rambling and looked at Derek. “R-really? Hell yeah!”

Derek rolled his eyes and got up to go to the bathroom, receiving a text as he shut the door behind him. He unlocked his phone and saw that it was from Scott.

“Hey do you know where Stiles is?”

“Yeah, he’s at my place, why?”

Derek looked at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, listening to Stiles sing a song outside in the living room as he prepared the bowl.

“Your place?”

“Yeah, I invited him over. He’s spending the night.”

“Since when are you two friends?”

“What do you mean?”

Derek frowned slightly at the text. Why was Scott being so nosey lately?

“Never mind, just making sure he’s okay…I’m worried about him and what happened last week with Jackson. He tends to dwell on thing.”

There was his answer. He was worried about Stiles. Derek couldn’t blame him; he was too.

“Oh. Yeah, he seems okay. He’s been super talkative all night. I don’t think he’s taking it too hard.”

“Der, hurry up already!” Stiles yelled.

Derek smiled, yelling back with a “Hang on!”

He took a quick leak, and was going to wash his hands when Scott texted him again.

“Knew it…”

“What?”

Derek washed his hands and waited a few seconds for Scott to reply again, but he never did, so he walked back out to the living room where he was greeted by Stiles with a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face, holding up a bowl.

“Ready?” Stiles plopped down onto the couch, patting the spot next to him with hand.

Derek smiled and sat down next to him. He was anxious; he had never smoked before. He knew what it was like, as he had seen Scott, Stiles, and the rest of the pack high on more than one occasion, but he had never felt the experience himself. He shook slightly with excitement, and Stiles laughed.

“Here, lemme show you what to do. Hold it like this-“Stiles placed the bowl in Derek’s right hand, “-and put this finger here…” Derek couldn’t help but smile as Stiles held his hand in his, teaching him how to smoke for the first time.

“-and finally, breathe in and bam, enjoy the feeling.”

Derek inhaled deeply, taking in more smoke than he had expected. He coughed harshly, and handed the bowl to a laughing Stiles.

“Coughing is good man; gets it into your lungs.”

Derek coughed and his eyes watered. His throat burned as he choked. He leaned back into the couch and rubbed his wet eyes, shaking his head, letting out an exasperated “Ughhh”.

He watched as Stiles inhaled deeply, but with ease. He had obviously done this many times before. He slowly opened his mouth and blew rings out into the air, eyes glazing over as he did so.

Derek had suddenly began to feel strange; weightless-almost. He found himself unable to stop smiling, and Stiles scooted closer to him on the couch, handing him the bowl again.

He was gentler as he inhaled this time, making sure he didn’t take in too much smoke. It tasted strange at first, but he soon found himself loving the sweet taste as it burned down his throat, making his eyes water as he had a coughing fit again, but less intense this time.

He looked to his right to see Stiles had gotten very close. He suddenly saw his own hands on either side of the boy’s face, looking into his red-tinted, shining eyes. He leaned forward, and so did Stiles. Time stopped, and Derek opened his mouth, allowing the smoke to slowly travel through the air, only to be inhaled into Stiles nose, making him sigh slightly.

Derek felt his pants grow tighter; he looked down and saw Stiles hands on his legs. Stiles looked so calm, so dazed. Everything felt so right, nothing could ruin this moment. Derek pushed his face forward into Stiles neck, taking in his scent, breathing in as slowly as he could, savoring the lustful, musky smell.

Stiles let out a quiet moan, and arched his back, pushing himself towards Derek. He had taken the bowl from his hands at some point, and exhaled the smoke into Derek’s face, returning the favor.

Stiles leaned back, looking Derek straight in the eyes.

“Y’know Der, there are times where, it s’like I’m lost in my thoughts, lost in th’ world. ‘Nd the only escape I’ve got is somethin’ like this. Spending time with someone I care lots about.”

Derek looked stunned. “You…Care about me, Stiles?”

“Of course I do, Der.” Stiles inhaled again, holding the smoke inside longer this time, before exhaling through his nose. “Without you, I dun think I would be who I am today.”

Derek had repositioned Stiles onto his lap, the boy’s legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Stiles, I didn’t know that…” 

Stiles grinned, leaning in to whisper in Derek’s ear. 

“No one does… Well, ‘scept Scott.”

Derek’s heart started to beat faster. He shivered, the hair on his neck stood up. Was that why Scott was so interested as to why Stiles was at his place?

“I…Care about you too, Stiles.”

Stiles stopped moving for a second, and looked at Derek with a solemn, puzzled look before he grinned and pushed his hand against Derek’s chest, falling backwards onto the couch, rolling off of it and onto the floor.

“You’re crazy, Der. Y’know that? S’what I like about you. So mysterious.” Stiles started to laugh uncontrollably.

Derek grinned and started laughing as well, tears streaming down his face, rolling onto the floor in front of the couch next to Stiles.

They stayed like that for a good 20 minutes or so, before finally calming down, enjoying the quiet of the apartment.

“S’good though, Der. Mysterious is good.”

Derek opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Thanks, Stiles.”

He closed his eyes again, and felt like he was floating through space and time.

Derek must have passed out because when he woke up, he was greeted by the scent of fresh bacon. He got up and walked over to the kitchen to see a shirtless Stiles cooking. 

“Oh- hey Der. Just thought I’d make us breakfast. I’m starving, thanks to last night.” He grinned as he walked over to the fridge.

Derek just watched as Stiles newly-formed chub jiggled with each step. He bent down to look in the fridge, putting his butt into the air. Luckily, Derek was behind the counter, so Stiles couldn’t see the growing bulge in his pants.

“You sleep well?” Stiles asked, looking at Derek as he returned to the frying pan.

“Y-yeah, really well actually.”

Stiles grinned. “Weed’ll do that to ya. Sit down, lemme hook you up with some food.”

Derek nodded and sat at the counter, watching Stiles every move. His pale belly looked so soft, so delicate. Derek wanted to grab as much of as he could in his hands, feel it jiggle as he undressed Stiles in bed. He accidentally let out a moan, causing Stiles to look at him and raise an eyebrow. “You say something?”

“Oh-huh, no. Just yawned.” Derek pretended to scratch the back of his head, looking down at the counter. He remembered last night, and how close and intimate it had gotten. He wondered if any of it meant anything. Probably not, though. Neither of them knew what was happening at the time, right? Right. 

Stiles suddenly slid a plate underneath Derek’s face; scrambled eggs and bacon. It smelled delicious. “Eat up, you’ve gotta be starving.”

Derek smiled and began to dig in, finding himself eating quicker than usual.

Stiles had sat down next to him, eating a substantially larger meal.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, until Stiles finally stopped eating and looked at Derek.

“Look, about last night-“

Derek instantly turned to look at Stiles. “W-what about it?”

“I didn’t-It didn’t mean-anything…right?”

“Oh.” Derek felt his heart crash into the lowest depths of his chest. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten involved with Stiles. He was just his friend, and that was all he ever would be.

“It didn’t…?” Derek asked quietly, staring intensely at his plate.

“Was that a question?” 

Derek didn’t reply.

Stiles shook his head. Surely Derek didn’t have feelings for him. He must have just misunderstood what he had said.

“I mean like-it was because-“ Stiles kept stuttering. He was suddenly unable to find the right words.

“It’s fine, Stiles. I know it didn’t mean anything. It was my fault.”

“What? D-Derek no I mean-“

“Just drop it Stiles.” Derek got up and walked to the bathroom, closing the door harder than usual.

Stiles dropped his fork on his plate and sighed, putting his hands over his face. He packed his bag and walked to the front door, realizing that Derek probably wasn’t going to come out of the bathroom. He  
definitely wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, Der.”

Derek heard the door shut from the other room. Tears swelled up in his eyes as he leaned his head back on the door, looking at himself in the mirror. 

Derek cried himself to sleep that night, face buried in his pillow. Why would he ever think that Stiles had any feelings for him? If anything, he should be afraid of him after what happened last night. It was a fantasy that he took too far, and ruined a friendship because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the funnest things I've written in a while.


	4. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles discovers something new about himself and gets a call from...Jackson Whittemore?

Stiles and Derek hadn’t talked to each other since that morning. It had been three weeks since then, and neither Stiles nor Derek were feeling any better about what had happened. Stiles had taken to eating more than he had been, if that were even possible. He had already gained 10 pounds in those three weeks. He didn’t care anymore if he got fat. He wasn’t getting laid by Derek Hale either way, so what did it matter? 

He took to lying around in bed all day every day. When he wasn’t doing that, he was lying on the couch with a bag of chips in one hand, and a beer in the other. 

The Sheriff had been trying to get Stiles to talk to him about what was going on, but Stiles kept brushing him off, telling him that he was fine when really, he couldn’t be any worse. It had gotten to the point where Stiles had kept extra food under his bed to reach down for when he was too lazy and depressed to physically _get out _of bed.__

Day after day, beer after beer, Stiles continued to drown himself in gluttony. Scott and the rest of the pack had tried reaching out to him through texts, calls, and even going so far as to hold some poor excuse of an intervention once, (which was ruined when Erica and Boyd showed up stoned as fuck). 

Stiles decided to shower one day after the sheriff came in and threatened to make him go on a diet if he didn’t. 

Stupid sheriff. 

The boy lifted himself out of bed (somehow), twisting his face up as he did so; not realizing how awful the blankets reeked of sweat (and another bodily fluid…). 

“Fffuck.” Stiles groaned as he waddled his way into the bathroom, feeling parts of his body jiggle that wasn’t used to. He stripped off his grease-stained, too-small t-shirt and threw it to the floor and stripped down to his boxer briefs, leaning up again and catching his eye on the bathroom mirror. He was really packing on the pounds now. It wasn’t just a small amount of chub added to his lanky frame anymore; it was a lot. He frowned slightly as he spun around and observed the backside of his body. Rolls of fat formed on his heavy, sweating back. He followed the streams of sweat down past his love handles to his butt, rubbing a hand up and down it in the process. It felt odd, to say the least. Not exactly a bad odd, just-not a normal odd. He shook his head and spun back to face his front again. He put his hands on his suddenly-apparent, large belly, jolting slightly at the touch of his cold hands. He watched as it jiggled back and forth with every slight movement he made. He found himself letting out a weak moan as he gently pushed either side of his belly back and forth, feeling it rub across his semi-erect member. _It felt so good; so amazing and new._

What? No…No. Was he-getting turned on by his fat? When did this become a thing for him? 

He moaned again as he lifted the soft underside of his chub and let go, feeling his whole body jiggle in reciprocation; his moobs bouncing against the top of his round stomach. His dick jolted at the feeling. He needed to get in the shower like, right now. He could hardly contain himself as he struggled to pull his boxer briefs off, causing his ever-so-sensitive dick to continuously pulse as his large girth rubbed up against it. Every step he took was pure, lustful _agony _; sending wave after wave of pleasure through his body, straight to his dick. He had never been more turned on, well, except for the love-potion incident, but that didn’t count. That was caused by some voodoo magical bullshit. This was the real deal; Stiles was turned on by his fat, jiggling, sweaty body and he never wanted to pleasure himself more. Maybe this whole thing with Derek wasn’t so bad after all?__

He came all over himself in the shower, letting out a loud moan or two during the process. He didn’t care if his dad heard, that wasn’t important to him right now. What was important right now was that he got out of the shower and shoved as much food into his fat, greedy stomach as he could and get even bigger. Stiles suddenly felt overwhelmed at the thought of being so big, eating so much food. Was this really a good idea? No, probably not; but it sure as hell felt good, and that’s all that mattered right now. Fuck Derek and his perfect body. Who needs ‘em? Not Stiles; he found himself perfectly content with the body he was in right now. If anything, it was Derek’s loss, not Stiles’. 

It had been about a week since Stiles had discovered this “fat” kink he had, and he discovered that he wasn’t alone. There were many guys out there who felt the same ways about their bodies as he did, and he never felt more relieved. He had packed on another 6 pounds to his already overweight frame. Just the thought of the little extra weight turned him on instantly. Stiles shoved his hand into his briefs and palmed his dick as he shoved a handful of Doritos into his already-full mouth, crumbs tumbling out onto his shirt, leaving red trails of cheesy-dust all down his chest. 

“FFuck, so good.” Stiles moaned as he grabbed his dick, about to begin another jerking session when his phone started to ring. 

“God dammit, why would anyone call me this late?” 

He looked at the phone and felt his heart skip a beat. 

“Jackson?” Stiles answered the phone, mouth partially opened, sporting a puzzled look on his face. 

“Hey Stilinski.” 

“Look, if you’re calling to make fun of me or my mom again, I’m sorry but my schedule’s currently full. Fuck you, Jackson.” He was about to hang up when he heard Jackson yell, alarm in his voice. 

“No! That’s not-. Look. I’m sorry about-what I said…before…” 

Stiles began to laugh. Really? Was Jackson this desperate to make fun of him that he pretended to apologize? 

“Nice try, Jackson. Though I’ll admit you did surprise me. I never thought you’d take it this far for a joke. Go fuck yourself.” 

“Stiles! Please! I’m not kidding! I’ve just been going through some rough times…” 

Stiles sighed, not replying. 

“…My birth parents are both dead.” 

“W-what?!” Stiles sat straight up in his bed, spilling his bag of chips all over. 

“I tracked them down and-they’re…they’re dead.” 

“Jackson I’m- I’m so sorry. I know how it feels-“ 

“Save it. I’m not here to suck the pity out of you. I’m just calling to apologize for what I said at Lydia’s.” 

Stiles could practically hear the tears in swelling up in Jackson’s eyes; his voice was cracking. 

“It’s okay, Jackson. Really, it’s fine. I’m not upset anymore.” 

“Then why haven’t you been coming to any pack parties anymore?” 

Stiles didn’t reply. He suddenly couldn’t seem to speak. 

“I-um…I’ve been going through some relationship-uh…issues.” 

“Oh? Well, I was worried it was because of what happened before.” 

Stiles suddenly felt so sorry for Jackson. So awful that he had been so ignorant to ignore the reasons as to why Jackson is why he is. He couldn’t bare it. 

“No…That’s not it at all. Hey-“ 

He couldn’t believe he was going to say this. 

“Um, I’m not doing anything right now. You uh- you can come over if you want to. We can talk about your parents if you’d like. I’m all ears.” 

Stiles gulped, clenching his suddenly-sweaty fist tightly. 

Jackson didn’t reply at first, but Stiles could still hear him breathing. 

“Okay…” 

Stiles heart started to beat rapidly. Jackson Whittemore, _the _Jackson Whittemore was coming over to see Stiles. What the fuck was happening?__

“My dad’s not home tonight, just uh, just walk upstairs when you get here; don’t have to knock.” 

Stiles hung up and began to breathe heavily. What just happened? Why did Stiles suddenly feel so guilty? 

He frantically paced his room, cleaning up what trash he could. He stopped and looked at himself in the mirror. 

Shit, none of his friends had seen him since the weight gain…What was Jackson going to say? Maybe Stiles could call him right now and cancel. Maybe- 

The doorbell rang. Stiles jerked his head towards his door, looking down the hall. Fuck.


	5. Guidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson comes over to visit with Stiles. The two share an emotional, one-on-one bonding moment.

“C-come in!” Stiles frantically threw all the dirty clothes and empty chip bags into his closet, breathing heavily as he did so.

He could hear Jackson’s footsteps walking up the stairs. 

Fuck-oh fuck, suddenly remembering he was still in briefs, Stiles leapt for his bed, just as the jock walked in.

“H-hey, Jackson!” He panted, face red, looking like he had just been caught doing something no one was supposed to see.

“Uh…Am I-uh, am I interrupting something?” Jackson shifted nervously from one foot to the other, readjusting his backpack on his right shoulder, looking sheepishly down to the ground and back up at Stiles.

“Oh god no Jackson I swear I wasn’t-“

Jackson laughed, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. “Relax Stilinski, I’m kidding.”

He threw his backpack onto the bed and seemed to suddenly be bombarded with all of the different smells in the room.

“Though, I don’t think I was too far off…”

Stiles felt his face burning up, “Y-yeah, heh, uh so. You can uh-you can sit down. Make yourself at home. Want anything to eat? I’ve got lots of shit downstairs.”

“Nah, stopped and got a sub on the way here.” Jackson sat down on the end of the bed right by Stiles’ feet, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a still-warm sub; filling the room instantly with a heavenly smell of perfection.

Stiles practically drooled, “R-right. So how’s the pack been?”

Jackson shrugged, biting into the sub. “Pretty good, I guess. Not much has happened lately. Derek’s been in a shitty mood lately; guess that “nice-person” change of heart was all bullshit. Whatever though, it’s not like he ever has anything to do with me, let alone the pack in itself.

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s just-I don’t know… Derek is our alpha; the pack leader, but-he just acts like he hates all of us… It was so great when he actually acknowledged us and talked to us like a real leader when he was all nice and happy for that little while. I don’t know what happened to him, but it affected the whole pack, Stiles.”

Stiles felt light-headed for a split second; Jackson just called him Stiles…He never does that. He’s never done that before, actually. He couldn’t help but grin slightly.

“…Stiles? What are you so happy about?”

Stiles instantly snapped out of his daze; face flushing a bright shade of red.  
“Oh… Sorry; just a little out of breath.”

“Right…”

Stiles’ mind frantically raced for new topics. “So uh, did you-wanna maybe talk about your birth parents? Only if you feel comfortable with it, though-like, if you don’t it’s fine I totally get that Jacks-“

“Stiles, relax. It’s fine, really.” Jackson sighed and put his sub down on the bed next to him. 

“Sorry…” Stiles gulped and stared at Jackson patiently.

“I just can’t help but feel alone; isolated. I mean- everyone in the pack has their own family to go home to whenever they want. Well, besides Derek, but it’s not like he ever shows much emotion anyway.”

Stiles let out a slight gasp as memories of “the night” as he deemed it flashed back through his mind, and how intimate Derek and he had gotten. 

“Yeah, I’ve got my “mom” and “dad”, but it just doesn’t feel the same. I’m not their son; I feel like they don’t understand me like my real parents would. They just congratulate me when we win Lacrosse games with a “good job, son!” and a pat on the back. It doesn’t feel real Stiles; it doesn’t feel genuine.”

Again, thoughts of Derek and Stiles’ stoned-rendezvous kept replaying over and over in Stiles’ head as Jackson spoke.

“…Y’know, Jackson, I completely understand what you mean.” Stiles fidgeted with one of the many candy wrappers strewn about his bed.

“You do?”

“Yeah…Like, you’ve got people in your life who mean the world to you; who you couldn’t live without. And then you’ve got those people; those people who are just kind of there to push you along; who really couldn’t give two shits about you if what you’re doing isn’t benefitting them somehow.” 

Stiles began to tear up; ripping the candy wrapper in his hands in half.

“Stiles? A-are you alright?” Jackson put a hand on Stiles’ knee.

Stiles gulped and shook his head, putting his hands to his face.

“No…No I’m not alright, Jackson. Actually, I probably couldn’t be any fucking worse right now.” Stiles slammed his fists onto his bed, causing all kinds of wrappers to scatter about.

“Stiles-“

“I finally let myself get close to someone; I let myself release all of the stress and strain I was putting upon myself, I finally let myself go, and this is what happens. I’ve been bed-ridden for weeks, haven’t even bothered to leave my house once in fear of stumbling upon them in the fucking candy-aisle of the grocery store. I can’t so much as fucking watch a Star Wars movie without thinking of them and breaking down, Jackson.”

There was a long pause. Jackson just stared at Stiles as he kept his head down, clenching tightly onto the blankets.

“Stiles, whatever has been going on, you can trust me.”

“I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t mean to call you over here just to rant to you about my problems. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so fucking selfish; can’t even be there for a friend without putting my problems first.”

“Selfish?” Jackson stood up. “Stiles, I’m not sure how you haven’t noticed this, but you’re the complete opposite of selfish.”

“Yeah, well. Try telling that Derek.”

“W-what?” Jackson sat back down, this time closer to Stiles.

Stiles sighed, and looked up at Jackson. “This is probably a big shock to you, but I’m g-“

“Gay? Yeah. I uh-hate to break it to ya, but the whole pack can smell your arousal spark whenever you happen to lay your eyes on a muscular guy. It’s no big deal, man. We all support you 100%.” Jackson let up with a humorous tone, smiling at Stiles.

“Dammit. Those keen werewolf senses.” Stiles smiled faintly, but it suddenly faded as he sighed and looked back down at his bed.

“But yeah, Derek and I may or may not have shared a somewhat intimate experience with one another a while back.”

“Really? Can’t say it doesn’t surprise me. Is that why he was in such a good mood for a while there?”

“Nah; he was like that before anything happened. But the next morning we exchanged a confusing clutter of words and he locked himself in the bathroom until I left.” 

“Geez. What did you say to him?”

“Nothing! At least, not that I can think of. But I feel like he thinks I was just using him for some fun one night, which was totally not the case at all.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

Stiles had absent-mindedly picked up Jackson’s sub and was mid-way through his first bite when Jackson asked this, causing him to choke.  
Stiles cleared his throat, “Ha, yeah right. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and sighed, “Stlinski, there’s your problem. You gotta let him know how you feel.”

Stiles took another bite of Jackson’s sub and shook his head. “I don’t know, Jackson. I’d much rather stay here in bed and jerk off 3 times a day while stuffing my face full of food.” Stiles picked up a piece of the sub that had fallen onto his chest and put it back in his mouth.

Jackson suddenly realized how much weight Stiles had put on during the past few weeks. It was a lot; it was very evident in his face, as he now had a slight double-chin forming. Jackson wondered what the rest of Stiles’ body looked like (if only he weren’t under his blankets). He stared at Stiles intently, oddly dumbfounded by his sudden curiosity with the boy’s body, as he continued to eat his sandwich.

Stiles slowed his chewing down, slightly squinting at Jackson. Why wasn’t he replying with a smart-ass remark? Stiles knew Jackson. Even if they were on good terms now, he would never be able to resist a perfect opportunity to jokingly-insult him; something was definitely up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still workin' on the pacing. Tryin' my best.


	6. Uncontrollable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson lets his lustful desires get the best of him.

“Jackson?”

“Uh, yeah-huh. Sorry, just been real tired lately. Lacrosse practice is killing me.”

Stiles turned away from Jackson to face his tv, still suspicious. “Gotcha gotcha. Hey, wanna stay a while? I was just about to watch a scary movie.”

Jackson was still slightly nervous about the whole situation. A few weeks ago, he and Stiles hated one another; and now here he was being invited by Stiles to watch a movie with him. “S-sure. What are we watching?” Jackson threw his backpack to the ground and sat on the end of Stiles’ bed, looking back at him.

“An American Werewolf in London.” Stiles laughed and started up the dvd.

Jackson chuckled, “Of course you’d pick that.”

“What else would I pick? It’s not like I get enough of you werewolves everyday anyway.” Stiles grinned as he bit another mouthful of Jackson’s sub.

“O-oh shit. Sorry, I uh-didn’t mean to take your sub.” Stiles stuttered; dropping the sub in his lap.

“Nah, don’t worry about it; I wasn’t all that hungry anyway. It’s all yours.”

Stiles’ face beamed at this comment as he eagerly bit another chunk off the sub.

Stiles finished the sub within minutes of the movie starting. Another ten minutes in and he was already hungry again; roaming his hands around underneath his bed in hopes of finding an extra Twinkie or bag of chips. 

Jackson watched Stiles’ shirt ride up and his pants fall down as he leaned over the side of his bed. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him; no matter how hard he tried. Stiles looked good with this added weight; _too good._

After five minutes of searching, to no prevail, Stiles gave up; letting out a sigh of defeat as he lifted himself back up onto his bed, face red with exhaustion. 

Jackson raised an eyebrow, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little hungry.” Stiles stretched his arms, causing his shirt to ride up again, exposing a soft layer of stomach. 

Jackson’s eyes immediately locked onto this as he attempted to form a response in his head. “Do you want me to go get you something?”

Stiles eyed Jackson suspiciously, hearing the eagerness in his voice. “Uh- yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. There’s a batch of brownies on the counter downstairs. I made a bunch of ‘em the other day. Oh, and a beer sounds good too.”

Jackson got up (quicker than he probably should have), and made his way downstairs. He didn’t know why, but he had this strange desire to get Stiles whatever he wanted, and he loved it.

He grabbed the case of brownies and a beer from the bridge and quickly made his way back to Stiles’ room. 

As soon as he walked in, he felt his legs get weak: there was Stiles, on top of the blankets, no shirt, only clad in a way-too-small pair of red briefs that looked like they were going to tear apart any second.

“Yes! Hand ‘em over, they look so good.” Stiles reached out as Jackson slowly walked into his room, being careful not to look too closely at any particular part of Stiles fat body.

“Come sit over here.” Stiles patted the space on the bed next to him, causing every inch of his pale belly to jiggle in reciprocation. 

Jackson felt his pants grow tighter as he sat next to Stiles; watching him stuff brownie after brownie into his mouth, letting out the occasional burp as he took another swig of his beer.

“You want some?” Stiles muttered out of a mouth full of brownies; crumbs falling all over his chest.

“No, I’m alright. Gotta stay fit for lacrosse."

“Suit yourself, man.” Stiles shrugged as he stuffed another brownie in his mouth.

Jackson wasn’t alright. He was anything but alright. He was in no condition to see Stiles like this. He could hardly contain himself. The more Stiles ate, the harder his dick grew. Why the fuck did this turn him on? 

He just wanted to touch him; touch Stiles all over. He wanted to grab handfuls of his fat girth; he wanted to make Stiles moan with all of the attention his overweight body was getting. He wanted to feel his stomach slowly grow fatter as he stuffed food into his greedy, already-open, waiting-for-more mouth. 

He wanted to grab handfuls of Stiles’ jiggling ass as he explored his body. He wanted to shove his face between Stiles’ fat thighs as he slowly made his way to sucking his fat cock. He wanted to hear Stiles beg and moan for more and more. He wanted to smell the sweat; to feel the friction of Stiles’ soft, fat belly against his own toned, muscular stomach while he slipped his tongue in and out of Stiles’ mouth, interlocking their tongues as Jackson’s hands grabbed and groped at Stile’s greasy, hot fat.

Before he knew it, Jackson’s dick was at full throttle, pushing against the fly of his pants.

_Fuck._

“Uh…Are you alright there, Jackson?” Stiles scratched his neck as he eyed Jackson’s throbbing member.

“Fuck it.”

In one swift movement, Jackson had climbed on top of Stiles and positioned himself on top of his stomach, lying down across it and exploring the inside of Stiles’ mouth as he gently pulled at his fat love handles.

Stiles moaned and gave in immediately. “ _Fffuck….J-Jackson…_ ”

Jackson grinded his dick into his soft flesh and slide his hands down to Stiles’ ass. He could feel Stile’s throbbing member pushing against his own ass.

“ _Shirt, off._ ” Stiles managed moan out in two short breaths.

Jackson was one step ahead of him, yanking off both his shirt and pants in seconds.

His wet dick was the hardest it had ever been; pulsing as it was grinded between Stiles’ thighs.

Stiles moaned as Jackson grabbed handfuls of his belly as they kissed.

“You like this, Stiles? You like having me worship your fat, greedy body?”

Stiles clenched his eyes shut as Jackson made his way down to his dick, and was licking the tip his briefs as he mushed his face into his sweaty underbelly.

“ _Jackson…I’m going-I’m going to cum-_ “

The room reeked of sweat, lust, and desire. Jackson had never wanted this more. Stile’s dick was leaking as he slowly pulled down his briefs. 

Jackson was about to wrap his lips around the pulsating member in front of him, until he picked up another scent; the scent of someone besides Stiles and himself.

Jackson slowly lifted his head up and looked towards the doorway of Stiles’ room.

_It was Derek._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really confident in my ability to write steamy scenes such as this, so it might be kinda iffy. Feedback very much appreciated.


	7. Derek's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek shows up and catches and Jackson in the act. He gets a lil' saucy about the situation and a fight occurs.

“D-Derek?” Jackson stuttered out.  


“What the fuck? Jackson?”  


“Derek, look-I can explain-“  


The alpha let out a growl, immediately allowing his wolf form to show itself.  


“What the fuck is this, Stiles?”  


“I-I don’t know what happened-“Stiles looked at Jackson for help, confusion on his face.  


Jackson quickly picked up his clothes, face flushed red. Stiles pulled the blankets on his bed up to his chest, hiding his body from Derek.  


“Derek, Stiles invited me over-it was my fault, I didn’t mean to-“  


Derek leaped at Jackson, knocking him back and pinning him against the wall.  


“What exactly made you think this was an okay thing to do? You’re a member of _my_ pack, and you think it’s alright to have sex with someone I had a past with?”  


“Derek-“  


The alpha pushed back and turned his back on the both of them, only to turn around again immediately after.  


“This is fucking ridiculous. I thought you two hated each other? Was that night at Lydia’s all just a bunch of bullshit? Was it all just an act you two put on to disguise whatever this is?”  


“Don’t you dare bring that up now, you know what a bad night that was.” Jackson yelled.  


“Oh now you’re the good guy, huh? If I remember correctly, you’re the one who mocked Stiles and his dead mother.”  


Stiles flinched at that remark, and Jackson’s entire body filled with rage.  


“But then again, I guess Stiles’ did have a mental breakdown in the woods about you. I should have known the whole time.”  


Jackson’s heart skipped a beat. “He did what?”  


“He doesn’t know? Well now is the perfect time! Tell him, Stiles! Tell him how worried you were that you had killed him!”  


Jackson looked down at Stiles, whose mouth was open in shock.  


“Jackson…Derek followed me out into the woods and I…”  


“You what, Stiles?” Derek growled again.  


“Fuck you, Derek.”  


Derek jolted his head at Stiles. “W-what?”  


“Fuck you. If coming into my house just to insult me for caring about someone was your way of winning me back, then you can forget about everything. I can’t believe you would even think to do that.”  


“Leave him alone, Derek. He didn’t do anything wrong.”  


“Says the guy fucking my-“ Derek immediately cut himself off.  


The room immediately grew silent.  


“Your…what?” Jackson raised an eyebrow, slowly stepping back.  


Stiles’ face grew red with embarrassment and confusion.  


“Nothing…” Derek growled.  


“Derek, please, I-“  


Fuck you, Jackson. And fuck you too, Stiles. How could you just run off to another guy?“  


“What the hell, Derek? You completely fuck me over and cease all contact with me for months, then get mad when you catch me with another guy? You’re acting like I’m the one in the wrong here.”  


Derek opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Stiles.  


“Get out of my house, now.”  


Derek’s complexion shifted; Stiles’ sudden change in attitude taking him by surprise. He took a small step forward, “Stiles…” His eyes were locked onto Stiles’.  


Stiles didn’t return the favor, instead looking down at his bed, clenching the blankets tightly in his hands.  


He didn’t look up until he heard Derek sigh and storm downstairs, slamming the front door.  


The tension immediately left the room with Derek, allowing the two boys to breathe out in peace.  


Stiles slammed his head back against the wall, cupping his hands around his face, sighing.  


“Stiles…What the hell just happened?” Jackson sat down on the end of his bed.  


“I have no fucking clue. He completely kicks me out of his life for months, literally months, then suddenly pulls me back in and expects me to take the blame for everything.” Stiles got up, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and headed for the bathroom.  


“Stiles…” Jackson put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.  


“I’m sorry, Jackson. I think you should go. I’ll call you later.”  


“Are you sure you’re alright? What was Derek talking about? You were worried you had hurt me?” Jackson leaned in ever so slightly, relaxing his grip on Stiles’ shoulder.  


Stiles looked into Jackson’s eyes, and began to lean in slowly before he suddenly snapped back to reality. “Yeah…Yeah, I’m fine. And I’ll tell you about it later…I just need to think about everything.”  


Stiles quickly made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Jackson could hear the shower being turned on as he left the room.  


His mind was racing. What happened that night in the woods? Did Stiles have feelings for Jackson? If he did, for how long? What was Derek going to do to him? After all, he was the alpha of the pack, and Jackson was messing around with the guy he had a thing with before.  


_Fuck._  


No-no, maybe Derek wouldn’t do anything. It wasn’t entirely on Jackson; Stiles showed no signs of resistance during the steamy exchange they both had, and Derek must have smelled the lust on both of them, not just Jackson. Derek couldn’t put all the blame on him, could he?  


As Jackson was walking down the stairs, mind cluttered as the result of overthinking all of the possible outcomes to this shitty situation he had landed himself in, he heard the soft crunch of paper underneath his feet. He looked down to see a note; **“TO STILES”** was crudely written on the front of it.  


His heart skipped a beat. Obviously it was from Derek.  


_Derek._  


Jackson found himself clenching his teeth at just the name, let alone the asshole it belonged to.  


“Nice try…” Jackson whispered silently as he bent down, picked up the note, and walked out the door with a sly grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels rushed, yet again. Surprise surprise. Honestly it was hard to write this chapter though because I just want to write hot n' steamy stuff and this, well, is quite the opposite. Don't worry though. The good stuff will be comin' up again soon. ;)


End file.
